


Joker's Unbirthday Present (A Harley and Bob Adventure)

by EndoratheWitch



Series: Gotham Nights [10]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, Harley Quinn (Comics), Suicide Squad (2016), The Joker - Fandom
Genre: Bob's little car, Car Chase, De Lorean, F/M, Joker and Harley have a loving relationship, No abuse, Robbery, Safe-Cracking, Sex, Sterling Silversmith an actual Batman villain, Thief, a Harley and Bob adventure, cursing, unbirthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 18:14:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13816704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Harley, with the help of Bob, is going out for a special gift for the Joker's birthday.





	Joker's Unbirthday Present (A Harley and Bob Adventure)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RoyalFlushGang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyalFlushGang/gifts).



> For RoyalFlushGang: I hope this makes you laugh. :hugs:

It was late at night, Joker and Harley were curled on the bed, the TV providing the only light in the small room. They were watching a showing of an old Japanese game show where a group of guys were getting hit in the crotch if they answered a question wrong. Joker was snorting with laughter, occasionally kicking his feet at a particularly funny part. Harley would just giggle holding onto Joker enjoying how much fun he was having though watching a bunch of men in terror of getting their junk whacked with a paddle was pretty damn funny.

The bed was littered with empty bags of chips, some empty cookie packages, old quilts and a two liter of soda. Harley was curled against his side, her head nestled on his chest while his arm was draped around her holding her close. She was wearing her favorite pajama bottoms: a pair of flannels pants in red with black hearts and an oversized t-shirt with a sleepy panda on the front. Joker was wearing a pair of boxers in red, green and white stripes, his favorite pair of neon green socks, along with a large t-shirt that hung loose on his thin frame with “Buffalo Bill's Rubbing Lotion” blazoned across the chest surrounded by death-head moths. 

His green hair was sticking up like porcupine quills around his head after having showered and had not bothered to brush it. The light from the television created a strange Tim Burton-like shadow of Joker's head against the back wall of their bedroom, the spiky headed shadow dancing across the old circus posters that decorated their bedroom. 

Harley smiled happily rubbing her hand across his stomach causing him to wiggle a little bit. “Ack Harley that tickles!” Joker squirmed. 

Harley grinned. “Oh it does, does it?” She started wiggling her fingers over his torso sliding her fingers under his t-shirt. Joker started laughing and pushing on her but only half-halfheartedly. Harley grinned and hopped on top of him straddling his hips and started to tickle him without mercy. 

Joker grabbed her hips, but let her tickle him. The show they had been watching had ended and the Gotham late night news was on, but it was just a droning sound in the background. 

Harley yanked Joker's shirt up and leaned down to start blowing raspberries on Joker's stomach which had him snorting with laughter. “HARLEY!! STOP!” 

“You have to make me!! I'll never stop puddin!” Harley laughed and took a bite sucking on his stomach for a moment. 

Joker giggled stroking her hair. “You are a terrible woman.” “And that's why you like me!” Harley released the bit of flesh she had been sucking on and blew on his stomach again. 

Joker giggled happily. “I don't like you!” 

Harley snorted. “Yes you do!” She tickled him some more. “Admit you like me!” 

Joker laughed. “NEVER!” 

Harley started to pull his boxers down, biting and blowing raspberries on his hips and the delicate expanse of flesh between his shaft and his stomach, her tongue dragging along the section causing Joker to purr like a large cat. “Mm...Harley...” 

That was when the newscaster, a man with a helmet of black hair, dull grey eyes and a monotone voice broke through their playing. 

“This Friday will be the auction of the Atticus Aguirre state.. Aguirre, one of Gotham's most secluded, eccentric, and secretive citizen's died late last month, was estimated to be worth billions of dollars, leaving a surprising amount of debt and no living relatives. Some of the items that will be up for auction are a pair of Purple Corundum Square Cufflinks with White Diamonds in 18K Rose Gold, an original painting by Claude Monet, several dozen cars and other expensive and rare pieces of art. The auction starts at six p.m. Friday evening. If you feel like owning a bit of history, head on down to the Gotham auction house.” 

Joker pushed Harley off of him. She fell onto her side of the bed with a muffled, “Humpf” as he sat up. “You see that Harl's, those cufflinks? Now those are something nice I would love to own—and look at them, they're PURPLE! My signature color! It's like they were meant for me.” 

Harley sat up just as the story switched, only catching a glimpse of the cufflinks. “Those are pretty puddin.” 

He sighed. “Too bad they're going up for auction Friday night.” 

Harley frowned turning to look at him. “We could go get them if you want puddin.” 

“Nah, we're going over to Penguin's to play cards remember?” Joker flopped back against the pillows. 

“So?” Harley flopped down next to him, her head in the crook of his arm. 

Joker sighed. “I don't know...just don't feel like it I guess. Besides we are going to be pulling that big armored car thing next week, all our resources are tied up with that.” 

Harley frowned, snuggling against his side her eyes narrowed in thought. Several times a year Harley liked to pick a day that she decided was Joker's birthday. She always chose at random, littered throughout the year. 

Harley decided that Joker's unbirthday had suddenly come up and she was going to get him those cufflinks! 

* 

The following night Harley groaned as she laid on the bed curled in the fetal position. She hadn't even dressed, wearing just a little pink nightie. Joker frowned in confusion standing by the side of the bed while he adjusted his tie before he sat down on the side of the bed and stroked her hair back from her features, tenderly tucking long blonde strands behind her ear giving her a puzzled look. He hadn't put on his gloves yet, touching her with his bare fingers, which she always enjoyed. He didn't seem to know how to handle her not feeling well. His feelings were a twisted knot of annoyance at not being able to help and genuine concern. 

He stroked her face softly. “Harley, you sure? I can stay here...Penguin is going to cheat and you know Riddler will be annoying, Two-face will take forever to play a card...and I'll have to threaten everyone.” He chuckled. “Well that can be lots of fun, especially when Oswald gets his tail feathers in a twist...but you know it won't be the same without my Harley'kins pumpkin pie.” 

Harley tried very hard not to smile. She always loved it when he was sweet to her, wanted her with him—which was all the time—but it was nice to be reminded. The image of what was going to happen...Joker laughing and telling everyone how he was going to kill them if Riddler didn't shut up, who would probably be drunk...Riddler always drank too much on game night, or when Joker would do his card tricks to the annoyance of everyone. Of course Joker cheated too at cards. He didn't have to, but he was good enough he could probably win every time if he wanted. He enjoyed seeing how much cheating he could get away with. Part of her desperately wanted to go. She loved sitting on his lap while he played cards, giggling over what mischief he was going to get into...she couldn't figure out why the rogues always invited him, unless they were more scared of what Mistah J would do if they didn't...but no one (unless you counted henchmen) ever ended up dead, so it was all in good fun. Harley pressed her lips hard together and moaned loudly. 

Joker frowned, feeling a little helpless as his fingers continued to caress her face. “I'm going to have Bob get a doctor. I'm sure he can grab one and get them back here without anyone noticing...” He started to stand up, but Harley's hand snapped out grabbing the sleeve of his jacket. “No, no doctors puddin. I just...just want to sleep, okay?” She rolled over a little so she could see his face. She gave him a weak smile. 

Joker was frowning, his brow furrowed. “If you're still like this when I get back, Bob goes and fetches a doctor, maybe two—got it?” 

“Yes puddin,” Harley replied meekly. 

He frowned, more clearly upset, but not knowing the best course of action to take. He bent over and kissed her on the forehead. “I'm leaving Bob with you, okay?” 

She nodded. “Okay puddin.” 

He smiled and whispered while caressing her jaw. “My pretty little clown.” 

Harley had to work hard not to grin too much, but she did whisper. “I love you.” 

Joker smiled and kissed her forehead again before he left. 

As soon as she heard the door close Harley sprang up and rushed to her closet. For tonight's little venture, Harley decided to wear her bestest and favorite costume, her Harlequin bodysuit with her jester headpiece and her pompoms!! Perfect for tonight!! 

As soon as she was dressed, Harley rushed down the stairs calling for Bob. “BOB!! BOB!! I need you!!” 

She swung off the last step of the stairs, her hand on the bannister, then hit the floor and slid into the living room where the henchmen usually hung out. Bob was on the couch with a large bowl of popcorn and a large soda from the convenience store down the street from the hideout. He was watching a romantic comedy sitcom dressed in black leggings, a bright blue t-shirt, blue sneakers and his usual tutu; except this tutu was exceptionally pretty Harley thought, with layers of tulle in several shades of blue with a matching headband. 

“BOB!! We are going out tonight on an important job!” Harley stopped next to the couch, her fists on her hips doing a pose she had seen Superman do on TV many, many times. 

Bob looked startled, the straw of his soda in his mouth as he stared at her, then furrowed his brow at her, clearly asking what was up and why wasn't she still in bed. 

Harley giggled. “I'm not sick, silly. I lied! It's Puddin's unbirthday and I have the perfect idea for a gift! And since you're here, you can help me!” 

Bob grinned bright, and by the look on his face, Harley could tell he was pleased she wasn't actually sick as well as happy they were going out on a job together. Harley giggled and clapped her hands. “Okay Bob, let's get the bag of goodies and go unbirthday present shopping! We are hitting the Gotham Auction house!” 

* 

The Gotham Auction house was a large Art Deco building that at one time had been one of Gotham's premiere hotels during the 1930's. Over the years the hotel had changed hands and been many different things: from a hotel, to a typewriter business, to at one time being a brothel that catered to the rich and the infamous until the end of the 1980's when it was purchased by a man named Edward Francis who turned it into a high end auction house. It was located on a corner lot bordering the Diamond and Fashion districts of Gotham. 

A mini Cooper painted a cheery sunflower yellow with silver trim, shiny brown wheels and butterfly decals, (the car was Bob's pride and joy though no one had any idea where or how he had purchased it) pulled up across from the Gotham Auction house. Harley and Bob both leaned over to look out the driver's side window at the building. Harley frowned as she took in the building; it was at least eleven floors, but after a quick online search earlier, Harley had learned that the main body of the auction house was located on the first three floors. There were several vaults in the place, but the main vault was located in the basement and it was where they usually kept the items that would be going up for auction the next day...so the basement was their goal. 

While leaning across Bob to look at the building, Harley whispered. “So how do you think we should get in?” 

Bob frowned, studying the building in his typical silence. After a few seconds, he smiled putting his finger up. Harley giggled. “I knew you would have an idea!” 

Bob grinned and drove his car down the street. 

* 

Soon Harley and Bob—who had a large messenger bag slung across his chest—had made their way around the back of the building. It was a typical Gotham alley, with several old dumpsters, a couple of bicycles, some miscellaneous trash and a rat or two. There was only one door back here with a touch pad near it to open it, but when Bob and Harley arrived they found the door already ajar. 

Harley gasped in surprise, then narrowed her eyes in annoyance. “Bob, either an employee is an idiot—always a possibility—or I think someone has beaten us here.” 

Bob tiptoed closer to the door and slowly pushed it open. The door didn't make a sound as it swung open on well-maintained hinges. The two of them slipped inside with Harley closing the door behind them. In the small hallway they could see two unconscious guards...that whomever had broken in hadn't even bothered to tie up. 

“Someone is definitely stupid,” Harley muttered. 

Bob nodded his agreement as he pulled out some rope from his messenger bag and knelt down to tie up the guards. Harley frowned, her brow wrinkling. Whoever this was, she was going to kick their ass for ruining her heist! This was important! It was for her puddin's unbirthday! How dare they try to push in on her job! Together Bob and Harley made their way through the auction house, following the trail of bread crumbs left by someone who wasn't as careful as they should be—a real amateur, Harley groused at one point—but who had arrived just before her. 

Whoever it was had disconnected the alarm system, but they had left the cameras running. Harley rolled her eyes putting her hand out to Bob. “Can please.” 

Bob rummaged around in his bag before he came up with two cans of spray paint. Harley, having become a pro with security cameras, their makes and their range, kept to the camera's blind spot until she was in just the right position to jump up and spray the lens. Bob, on the other side of the room, did the same thing. 

Harley turned around, her hand holding the spray can on her hip. “I feel like I'm cleaning up after a two year old.” 

Bob nodded his agreement, scrunching up his cheeks in disbelief. 

The two of them made their way quietly toward a set of elevators and stepped inside to be greeted vy the the sound of Elton John's “Tiny Dancer” as elevator music. Harley groaned. “This just keeps getting better and better.” 

They arrived down in the basement within moments. The doors opened and a voice drifted out of the darkness. “Don't move or I will kill you both dead where you stand.” 

Harley narrowed her eyes. She knew that voice... “Sterling? Is that you?” 

A man stepped out of the darkness of the basement and Harley's heart dropped. Sterling Silversmith was a man that Harley hated. It wasn't just his stupid face with the wide ears like a taxi rolling down the street with its doors open, or the droopy eyes, or the balding head—not even the stupid smile and round nose. It wasn't the white shirt and the stupid silver suits he insisted on wearing or the fact that his “gimmick” was to only steal silver. Oh no...it was the fact that he had convinced himself that he was in love with her and that it was only a matter of time before she fell in love with him. He wasn't even in the good kind of fake love where she could order him around. Nope, it was the annoying type where he called her pet names, tried to woo her with his extreme lack in good looks, bland personality, and sent her stupid silver coins with a love letter at least once a month. 

Joker thought it was hilarious only because it pissed Harley off so much, and he was confident in her love for him that she would never dump him for Sterling who was the textbook definition of annoying. Joker would tease her for days after she would get a gift from Sterling...until she was ready to shoot him. Only then would Mistah J stop with the teasing—until the next letter. 

Sterling was harmless, which was even more annoying as far as Harley was concerned because he wasn't a confident enough criminal for him to be a real threat to Batman or Joker. He wasn't enough of a threat to really do much of anything, but he was like a boil; annoying, painful and in need of lancing. Harley would have gladly lanced him a long time ago if it didn't feel so much like kicking an ugly puppy...unnecessarily cruel, which was the only reason Sterling was still alive. 

“Harley!! My darling!! My dearest!!! What brings you here?” Sterling, his slightly squeaky voice grating over her nerve endings like receiving electroshock therapy, came toward her with his arms out as if he might embrace her, but Bob, who didn't like Sterling either, quickly interposed himself between them. Harley narrowed her eyes looking around the side of Bob's hulking form, the ends of her pompoms bouncing with annoyance. 

“What on earth are you doing here Sterling?” Harley hissed without bothering to keep the irritation out of her tone. 

Sterling grinned. “I heard that a large collection of silver coins and silverware—oh and a silver tea set—were going up for auction tomorrow and I just had to have them! You know how I feel about silver darling.” 

Harley growled. “Call me darling one more time and you are going to be eating all your meals through a straw, Sterling.” 

Sterling stuck his bottom lip out. “Oh come on Harley, you don't mean that.” 

Harley narrowed her blue eyes. “Try me.” “So why are you here my...precious.” He grinned at her and actually lifted up on his toes before rolling his feet flat again and bounced a fraction in place. He looks like an ugly, annoying cartoon character, Harley realized. 

Harley rolled her eyes, stepping to Bob's side. Bob glanced at her with a lifted brow (though the big man didn't have any eyebrows), but Harley put a hand on his arm as she glared at Sterling. “I'm here for a pair of cufflinks for Mistah J's birthday.” 

Sterling frowned clearly not liking her answer, but he shrugged. “That clown has a birthday? I didn't think he was born so much as he grew out of Gotham's sewers. Good luck cuteness. I haven't been able to get that damn thing open and I've been here at least an hour.” 

He turned and walked back into the shadows. Harley exchanged a look with Bob, both of them shrugging and following Sterling. The brightly dressed man led them to a wall safe that was only dimly lit by a large heavy duty box flashlight with a light that reminded Harley more of a spotlight. The safe was not a typical “wall” safe. This one truly took up nearly the entire wall. 

Harley followed him and shook her head in disbelief. “An hour? How the hell haven't the cops showed up?” 

Sterling grinned. “I cut all the alarms...” 

“Yeah, but you left the cameras and the guards untied. You're lucky.” 

Sterling grinned. “I do have the devil's own luck.” 

Harley rolled her eyes as she stepped up to the vault. She frowned and narrowed her eyes looking over Sterling's equipment. She had to admit he had all the latest in breaking and entering equipment. Of course, none of it did you any good if you didn't know what you were doing. Harley didn't say a word as she moved closer to the vault to examine the locking mechanism that was illuminated under the yellow glow of Sterling's flashlight. 

Sterling walked up next to her, his shoulder nearly touching hers. It took every bit of control Harley had not to lash out and punch the shiny weasel in the face. 

“I'll make a deal with you Harley. You help me get this open, you can have the cufflinks and anything else you want, as long as I get everything silver.” Sterling smiled at her, clearly trying to be charming. 

Harley made a noncommittal noises as she examined the vault. She motioned for Bob to join her, forcing Sterling to take a step back to allow the big man to come closer. Together the two of them looked over the mechanism, then Harley smiled sharing a glance with Bob. 

“Your problem here Sterling is that this vault has a dual locking mechanism, which means you need two people to do the dials at the same time for it to unlock.” Harley turned to glance over at Sterling who was leaning a little too close, but she chose to ignore him. “Fine Sterling. Bob and I will get the vault open. I get my cufflinks...you can have anything silver.” Harley smiled winsomely. 

Sterling put his hand out. “Shake on it?” 

Harley's lip curled, but she turned and took his offered hand. Before she could yank her hand back though, the man had pulled her forward and kissed her hand. Harley made a face snatching her hand back and wiping it on her back. 

“All right, let's get started,” she muttered with a look of displeasure on her painted features. 

With a shared look and no words, Harley and Bob, using just their keen hearing and nimble fingers worked together to figure out the combination. It took the pair roughly three minutes to figure out the combination to each dial, after which it only took the two of them a minute to line up their dials and turn together, opening the vault. 

Harley giggled turning toward Sterling and bowing. “Ta-Da!” 

Sterling applauded. “That was impressive Harley!! Just fantastic! Which makes me very sad about what I have to do now.” 

Harley looked up, startled to see Sterling holding a gun on her. “I'm very sorry my precious love dove, but Maxi Zeus hired me to not only steal a few odds and ends...but specifically he wanted those cufflinks. I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you and your big friend to grab those bags there on the floor and fill them for me, starting with the cufflinks, then the jewelry, then all the silver of course.” 

Harley shared a glance with Bob, who looked annoyed, but he shrugged. Neither of them were armed; the only thing they had brought was a can of Joker's gas which was in Bob's messenger bag. There was no way they could get it before Sterling shot...and while Harley didn't think Sterling would shoot her, she certainly wasn't about to test her theory out with Bob. 

Harley snarled. “You are a big fat stinker, Sterling!” 

Sterling sighed. “I'm sorry my love. I hope someday we can move past this. Now, pick up the sack and fill it. I'll be nice and not leave you guys for the police...that's fair right?” Harley muttered, growling numerous colorful words under her breath as she picked up the sack and walked into the vault with Bob. They both filled their sacks. Harley picked up the cufflinks frowning. They were so pretty, her puddin would love them and they would go so well with his purple suits...for a moment she thought about seeing if she could do a little bit of sleight of hand...Mistah J had been teaching her how to do the trick with cards, showing her how to slip the desired card into her hand or into a deck, but...she really didn't have any place to put the cufflinks even if she was experienced enough to do a little sleight of hand. The only downside of her favorite costume: no pockets and not a lot of places to plant something on herself that wouldn't be noticed right away in this getup. Sexy was great, but not when you really needed a pocket. Just as Harley was agreeing with herself about whether she should try to snag the cufflinks anyway, that was the moment that Sterling came up close to her, placing the barrel of the gun against Harley's hip. 

“Now, now, you weren't thinking of trying to take those were you darling?” Sterling purred. “After being such a good girl?” 

Harley ground her teeth and made a show of dropping them into the bag. Sterling grinned. “There you go; I know you are smart as well as gorgeous. Now, if you and your mute tutu-wearing friend will hand those sacks over, I'll be on my way.” 

Harley shoved her sack at him while Bob just held his out, his face stony like a mountainside wearing a tutu glaring at the man in a shiny suit. Sterling frowned, giving Bob a half inquisitive, half frightened look as he grabbed both bags. 

“Now, why don't you two just go all the way to the back of the vault there...” Sterling motioned with his weapon. 

Harley hissed. “Don't you dare lock us in this safe Sterling!! We'll run out of air!” 

Sterling frowned. “Fine, just...turn around and count to one hundred.” 

Harley pressed her lips together in annoyance, but she turned around. Bob glanced down at her and sighed doing the same. 

Sterling called out. “Count out loud, I want to hear you counting!” 

Harley sighed and started to yell as loud as she could. “ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR....” 

Bob just stood nodding his head along with Harley's counting. 

Sterling grinned and took off for the elevator, hitting the button as quickly as he could. 

Harley sighed between counts. “SIX, SEVEN....” 

She turned around slowly...Sterling was gone. Harley grinned and grabbed Bob by his forearm. “Come on we might still catch him!” 

Bob gave her a wide grin as the two of them raced for the elevator. 

* 

Sterling Silversmith was a bit of a showoff. He liked his silver suits, silver shoes...and silver on his car. His pride possession was a silver De Lorean. He had bought it off of an Ebay listing just before he decided to become one of Gotham's costumed criminals. It was the perfect accessory for a perfect master thief...or at least that was how Sterling saw himself. He now only had to get the rest of the villains of Gotham to take him seriously...and Batman. AND to get Harley Quinn on his arm as his girl and his life would be complete. Tonight's little job would be a big step in that direction! Once he had given over the loot to Maxie Zeus and received his payment, he could make sure all the supposed “Rogues Gallery” of Gotham realized that Sterling Silversmith was a force to be reckoned with! 

Sterling grinned as he took off down the street, imagining the silver getup he would have Harley wear when she was his girlfriend/sidekick. Sterling's saw something odd in his rear view mirror that broke him out of his musings. 

Coming around the corner fast enough that it almost tilted on two of its wheels was a mini Cooper painted a cheery sunflower yellow with silver trim, shiny brown wheels and butterfly decals. Behind the wheel, scrunched down as if he barely fit into the cab of the vehicle was Bob, his eyes narrowed, his large hands gripping a steering wheel that was too tiny in his large hands. Next to him, leaning out the passenger window was Harley who screamed at the driver of the De Lorean. 

“I'm going to beat the stuffing out of you Sterling!!!” 

Sterling blanched with a whispered. “Oh shit.” 

* 

Harley flopped back down in her seat crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at the De Lorean ahead of them with the license plate “SLVRM8N. “I'm going to kick his balls to the roof of his mouth.” 

Bob made a sort of strangled snort next to her, though he didn't turn to look, his eyes on the car ahead of them as he leaned forward and hit the gas, the little, sporty car leaping to the call, zipping quickly along and began to close the distance to the silver car. 

* 

Sterling glanced in his rear view again and frowned. He was supposed to meet Maxie at his apartment, but he couldn't do that with those crazy clowns on his tail! He would have to lose them. He grinned to himself; that should be a problem in his car! He slammed his foot down on the gas pedal. His De Lorean leapt forward picking up speed. Sterling giggled with glee; his car could get to 100 mph and they would never catch him in the Cooper! 

* 

Harley growled. “Bob, get him!!” 

Bob grinned as his size fourteen shoe mashed on the gas. The little car zipped forward, closing the distance swiftly. Harley grinned watching the distance dwindle between the two cars; little did Sterling realize that the mini Cooper with the butterflies could attain speeds up to 130 mph... 

* 

Sterling, grinning from ear to ear, turned his car to the right, thinking that he would hit the Commerce Street Highway where he could really let the De Lorean show what she was made of and lose Harley and her mute mountain. He took the exit with the yellow compact car right behind him; the butterflied vehicle was gaining, but Sterling had no doubt that with his machine and with his driving, he could lose them. 

The traffic at this time of the morning was light, only a few cars here and there. Sterling grinned at his good fortune. That left a lot of open space for him to use. Slowly the De Lorean began to gain speed, but the larger car was no match for the better, more modern engine as Bob zipped up beside him. Sterling looked startled and he turned to his left to see Harley glaring at him. She then gave him the finger just as Bob twisted the wheel of his vehicle and slammed into the side of the De Lorean. 

Sterling let out a high-pitched shriek when the mini Cooper hit his car. He rolled his window down and started to yell. “THIS CAR IS A CLASSIC! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU ARE DOING WOMAN?” 

Harley rolled the window of Bob's car down, grinning like a cat. “You say something Sterling?” 

Sterling snarled. “WOMAN!! Don't you dare have that giant ape of yours hit my car again! This is a classic sports car! A thing of beauty!” 

Harley smiled. “You call me 'woman' one more time Sterling, you are going to be lucky if you can ever eat without a straw again! And if you don't pull over and give me those cufflinks, Bob here is going to hit your precious piece of crap again.” Harley grinned, pointing at Bob with her thumb. 

Sterling, his eyes darting back to the road and Harley, gritted out. “You wouldn't dare!!!” 

Harley gave him her best, sweetest smile. “Try me.” 

Sterling whipped the wheel of the De Lorean, trying to change lanes, but his car just would't pick up any speed and with Sterling's erratic behavior at the wheel, he was actually starting to lose any ground he had gained between himself and the Cooper. 

* 

Harley sighed. “Bob, hit 'im.” 

Bob grinned and nodded his bald head with enthusiasm as he caught up with Sterling and swung the Cooper hard to the right to slam the passenger side door. 

Inside the larger vehicle, Sterling let out another shrill screamm of protest as the impact caused him to lose control, the front of the De Lorean wavering for a moment. Other drivers zipped by, honking their horns with one driver leaning out the window of his car to yell. “HELLO McFLY! GET OFF THE FUCKING ROAD!” 

Sterling sneered and returned the gesture before he grabbed the wheel again. He struggled to get his car back under his control when Bob slammed into him again, sending the De Lorean sliding across the traffic flow, eliciting more shouts, curses, and horn honking. Sterling shrieked and spun the wheel crazily, the front of the car weaving this way and that. A few more cars rushed past, honking their horns, but Harley and Bob kept pace with Sterling while avoiding his erratic driving. 

He glared at Harley as the Cooper maintained its position beside him. As soon as he caught sight of an overhead sign announcing the exit, Sterling pulled the wheel to the right, making his car lurch toward the exit, then headed down the ramp as fast as traffic and his car would allow. He hoped that maybe he had lost them and might out run them. Bob proved to be an adept driver of his little vehicle, however, and kept pursuit, the little car staying right on the rear end of the silver monstrosity that Sterling called a vehicle. Sterling was headed toward Old Gotham. For a split second he thought he might be able to lose them as he sped toward the Clocktower that dominated the downtown area of Old Gotham, but he was suddenly thrown forward, his forehead smacking the wheel with a sharp thunk, then snapping back, bruised and bloody. Sterling looked in his rear view mirror in shock; Bob had rammed the De Lorean from behind with his Cooper. Sterling, in a daze, lost control of his car. The De Lorean jumped the sidewalk in front of the old houses, smashed across the concrete and landed nose first on top of some trash cans that had been put out on the side of the street. 

He sat there dazed and confused for a moment when the door of his car was flung up and he saw Harley standing there grinning at him, her arms crossed over her chest, the giant mute in a tutu standing next to her holding onto the top of his door. 

Harley grinned. “Now—where are my cufflinks?” 

* 

It was almost four a.m. when Sgt. Rogers and Sgt. Martìnez were coming down the stairs having just come off duty. They had decided to take a cab home together since both of their police vehicles were going to be in the garage for service today. Rogers was telling Martinez in hilarious detail about his son's football game over the weekend, the two men laughing over the adorable sight of five year olds running aimlessly around the field when they both stopped in the middle of the concrete steps. 

There on the stoop of the Gotham PD was a naked man, hogtied, with a pair of silver boxers in his mouth and two sacks. Rogers shared a look with Martinez. 

“You wanna check the sacks before we ungag him?” Rogers asked. 

Martinez shrugged. “Rock, paper, scissors?” 

Rogers nodded. The two men played the best two out of three with Rogers being the one to walk down to the naked man. He crouched down and the man started to wiggle and make angry muffled noises. Rogers, being a long resident of Gotham, carefully opened the bags first, found them filled with jewelry and silver. He glanced up at Martinez. “I think we have a little fish here that has pissed off someone bigger than him.” 

Martinez chuckled. “So, who'd he piss off?” 

Rogers reached forward and pulled the man's boxers from his mouth. The first words out of Sterling's lips was a shouted. “HARLEY QUINN!!!” 

* 

Harley was wiggling with anticipation as she waited for her puddin to arrive home. He should be here any minute now, she thought to herself, the card games didn't usually last longer than six a.m. 

She had spent the last hour or so digging up some balloons that she knew were somewhere in the hideout (under the bed), which she had blown up and taped around the room until she was out of breath and her cheeks hurt. She had also found some old streamers from Joker's last unbirthday and she made a hastily put together banner with notebook paper, paints and tape. 

Now she waited on the bed, her hair brushed out, wearing the see-through red nightie. The cufflinks were in a tiny box wrapped with a bright green and purple ribbon on the bed in front of her as she sat and waited...and waited...and waited. 

Around eight in the morning, she heard Joker's laughter drifting up the stairs. By now Harley was angry. No...annoyed...no she corrected again...angry!! As far as he knew, she was sick!! The bastard. 

She was sitting with her arms crossed over her chest when he came into the bedroom all giggles. “Harley!! Harley!! Wake up!! I have to tell you what happened!! Remember that human dung beetle Sterling Silversmith? Someone left him trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey in the front of the....” 

His voice trailed off when he saw the room decorated for a birthday party...and Harley looking as sweet as any birthday cake he thought, in her red nightie and nothing else, and with a gaudily wrapped box in front of her. 

Joker frowned. “Is it my birthday?” 

Harley hissed. “Where have you been? What if I had really been sick and you didn't come home on time?!” 

Joker frowned confused. “I...I thought Bob was here, so...” 

“You thought Bob was here? Well...SO!! I do this whole thing so I can sneak out and steal those cufflinks for...” Harley was working herself up when Joker whispered. “What cufflinks?” 

“WHAT CUFFLINKS? The ones we saw on TV yesterday! The one's you said you wouldn't mind having, the ones that were going up for auction later today...those cufflinks!” 

Harley gasped in shock. “You...you don't even remember do you?” 

Joker grimaced with a smile and shrugged. “Sorry?” 

Harley crossed her arms tighter and turned her back on him in a huff. 

Joker frowned in confusion. He slipped off his coat, removed his tie and dropped his vest onto the floor, before kicking off his shoes, taking his gloves off last and sitting on the side of the bed. He picked up the tiny box and opened it, careful of the ribbons (he knew how Harley liked to keep all ribbons for a variety of reasons) and opened the box. Inside were a pair of Purple Corundum Square Cufflinks with White Diamonds in 18K Rose Gold—beautiful and expensive. 

He stared at them then smiled. “You're the one who did that to Sterling Silversmith, aren't you?” 

Harley's voice was soft and pouty. “Yeah.” 

“You stole these for me,” Joker commented with a soft smile. 

“Yeah, for your birthday,” Harley said glancing over her shoulder at him. 

Joker's smile broadened. “I love them Harley.” 

He set the cufflinks aside on the side table by the bed before he turned on his knees to crawl onto the bed and wrap his arms around Harley's shoulders. She was stiff at first, but he kissed her hair, then her ear, then slowly started to nuzzle her neck. “Forgive me for being late? We saw Sterling on the news this morning and well, we all hate that little weasel...and it was funny...I can't wait to tell everyone that you were the one to do that to him.” Joker cooed softly against her ear, the tip of his tongue circled her ear lobe, eliciting a cascade of goosebumps over her skin. 

“My girl robbed an auction house and trussed up Sterling for my birthday. I'm a very lucky guy.” He nibbled on her shoulder until she finally relaxed. 

“Oh puddin, do you really like them?” She turned around and Joker was all smiles. “I love them pumpkin pie, almost as much as I love you in this nightie.” He giggled softly, grabbing her gently by her shoulders and pushing her back onto the pillows. 

“Is this part of my birthday present too?” he asked with a mischievous crook of one green eyebrow as he laid on top of her dropping a hand to playfully squeeze one of her breasts. 

Harley purred in response. “Definitely puddin. I didn't have time to get you a cake this time so...I'm the cake!” 

Joker laughed. “Mmm...I do love my sweets.” He covered her mouth in a sweet, passionate kiss that completely evaporated any lingering annoyance she had with him being late getting home and not remembering the cufflinks. She wrapped her arms around him, running her hands over the soft fabric of his shirt, hooking her legs around his legs, feeling the smooth texture of his slacks against the soft skin of her thighs and calves which made Harley purr further. “I missed going with you tonight,” she whispered while catching his mouth with her lips. 

“Mmm...I missed having you sitting on my lap all night,” he cooed back. “I missed you rubbing on me while I tried to play cards.” He chuckled, sliding down to nibble at her breasts over the top of her nightie. Harley moaned softly. “Well, I hope it was worth it.” 

Joker chuckled. “Mm...coming home to a birthday present like this...even better than a pair of pretty cufflinks.” 

Harley giggled happily reaching up to caress his hair. “Oh puddin, you are such a charmer.” 

He squeezed one breast while he pressed his lips over the soft silk of her nightie feeling the hard nub of her nipple against his mouth, giving her an incoherent answer. “Can I unwrap this present?” He asked with a boyish grin. Harley giggled. “Yes.” Before she caught the ends of her nightie, Joker shifted his position to let her pull the cloth over her head. When she was completely naked, he rose back up to kiss her mouth, his kiss a little more passionate. His hand snaked down over her silken skin as he rolled slightly to the side, his hand going down between her legs. Harley groaned. “Puddin...it's your birthday I should be...” 

“Shh Harley...you're talking too much,” Joker growled happily as his fingers slid between her intimate lips to stroke against her clitoris. “Just kiss me Harley,” he hissed back, his fingers moving up and down against her. Harley groaned, without another word reaching up to cup his face with one hand, her kisses fiery while his fingers moved up and down slowly, then faster finding just the right amount of pressure to apply that had her writhing under him. He kissed his way down her throat, dragging his tongue down to her breast. He began to suck on her nipple while his fingers glided up and down, diving into her when she was wet enough, then continuing their sensual sliding against her clitoris until Harley's hips were moving in rhythm with his strokes. Her one hand pressed into the fabric of his shirt while the other hand gripped the bed sheets, her body arching under his attentions. He leaned over to flick his tongue against the other nipple, which had Harley groaning. Joker smiled and stopped what he was doing, which had Harley pouting. “Puddin!” 

Joker chuckled. “Shush.” 

He grabbed her hand that was trying to shred the sheets and placed it between her legs. “Touch yourself while I undress.” 

Harley giggled. “Okay puddin.” 

Joker stood up and started to work his fingers quickly over the buttons of his dress shirt, watching Harley as she rubbed her fingers over her clitoris, her eyes on him, her other hand rolling and stroking the nipples of her breasts. He licked his lips watching the way she squirmed against the bed, her fingers working to bring herself closer and closer to climax. He fumbled the buttons of his slacks when Harley moaned. “Oh puddin...ah...ah...” 

She came with a gasping groan, her body tensing, hips rising slightly, her toes pointing. Joker groaned as he watched his Harley; he had never seen anything more beautiful than Harley in the middle of her orgasm. It only made his desire for her reach a height of almost painful need. He flung the rest of his clothing away, his erection hard and needy as he nearly threw himself onto the bed and crawled on top of her. She giggled and moaned, the bed bouncing under their weight as he dropped on top of her. Joker grabbed the wrist of the hand that she had been using to touch herself. He stuck her wet fingers into his mouth and sucked the liquid from her fingers. Harley watched him with a heated gaze. 

He grinned. “Mmm...my delicious Harley.” 

He sat up on his knees between her legs, his gaze wandering over her. Harley threw her arms over her head watching him. His green hair was mussed, the light of the overhead danced across his pale skin. Her eyes traveled down his slim torso, until she reached his erection; she stroked the tips of her fingers along his stomach, then across the pale flesh his shaft. Joker closed his eyes, groaning at her touch. 

“Come here puddin,” Harley murmured. 

Joker opened his eyes grinning. He held himself for a moment, rubbing the head of his shaft against her warmth, her fluids making him slick before he plunged into her, dropping forward at the same time. 

Harley groaned at the delicious feel of his erection stretching her, filling her. When he dropped down on his elbows over her, she wrapped her legs around his, her hands going around his torso, fingers pressing into his flesh as he cradled her head and started to thrust. 

He didn't move slowly. He kissed her with a burning passion that trickled to every corner of her while he thrust himself into her, a fast pounding pleasure that had Harley digging her nails into his back. She groaned struggling to meet his thrusts with her own, the tension of their building passion rising until together they both came, their moans of shared pleasure mixing together. 

Joker kissed her when he came, thrusting until she had drained every ounce from him. Harley held on, wrapping her legs around his waist until she collapsed with exhaustion. Joker thrust slowly, very slowly, a few more times, not wanting to accidentally slip out until he finally stopped moving all together. They both laid still, panting until their breath normalized. 

After a few moments, Joker laughed. “I can't believe you left him naked on the police door step.” 

Harley giggled. “I made Bob undress him and tie him up. Eeww...didn't want to touch him.” 

Joker giggled. “Fantastic job, my sweets...might just be one of my best birthdays yet.” 

Harley laughed. “I'm just going to have to go bigger and better next time.” 

Joker grinned. “Does that mean you are going to leave old Batsy in his tightie whities in front of the Gotham City Hall for my next birthday?” 

Harley grinned brightly stroking her fingers through his hair. “Maybe.”


End file.
